


The New Order

by Kar98k



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Angst, Based on a video game, F/M, Resistance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6239692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kar98k/pseuds/Kar98k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's year 1946 and Captain Peggy Carter takes part in the last ditch effort to destroy the Nazi war machine. It's also the year when Daniel Sousa, an OSS agent working as a nurse at a psychiatric hospital meets her, in a most pelicular way.<br/>It's year 1960 when Peggy wakes back up from a coma, in a world ruled by the men she fought so hard to stop. In her journey to defeat her mortal enemy, she will have to rely not only on her own strength, but also on her friends - old and new.</p><p>An Alternative Universe story, based on the plot of the video game "Wolfenstein: The New Order".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic came up as I played "Wolfenstein: The New Order". It will share some plotlines with the game, but I don't intend for it to follow it word for word.  
> To better understand the setting and the aesthetic, you should watch some videos of the game - there's plenty on YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=wolfenstein+the+new+order).  
> If there are any grammar mistakes, I sincerely apologize - English is not my first language.  
> Kudos and comments/constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and encouraged.

**Baltic Sea, near the German coast, July 1946**

She opens her eyes and sees she's in a house, spacious and tastefully decorated.

She sees a table in the dining room, stocked full of food. She smells the meat, the sauces, the potatoes.

She hears children run around the house, giggling, shouting at each other, before they cry out in a happy shrill.

_Mommy! Daddy!_

She turns her neck to the side, but suddenly finds out her vision is blurred, as if a thick fog blanketed her. She thinks she sees a silhouette to her right as she tries to touch it.

The shadow moves away, out of her grasp as she suddenly hears a low drone in the distance, growing louder and louder by the second. Soon, it becomes unbearable as she lifts her hands to cover her ears. It doesn't help as the sound pierces her ears, causing her temples to flare up in sharp pain. She opens her mouth to scream, but hears nothing as the sound seems to press her to her knees.

Suddenly she jerks forward, breathing heavily. The house is gone, substituted by an instrument panel of a plane. The drone of the engines is exactly the same as in the dream – an overwhelming, pulsing constant drilling itself into her conscious. She looks around, noticing the fully glass cockpit and other aircraft, to the sides, above and below the one she's sitting in right now. She blinks a few times, her vision regaining focus as she remembers why she is where she is now.

She's here to end the war. To defeat Schmidt once and for all. She knows that the objective is a stretch. She knows that if they don't succeed here, there is no more hope. The Nazis are more powerful now than they ever were before, their weapons far more advanced than the ones the Allies have in their arsenal. Peggy knows it first hand, her infiltration of Castle Wolfenstein, Paderborn or Isenstadt showing her what the Nazis are capable of.

Her mind races as she prepares herself for the upcoming fight. As she mentally goes through the assault plan she is sidetracked again by the memory of her dream. Ever since she returned from the assignment at Castle Wolfenstein, the images seemed to repeat themselves over and over again, every time she closes her eyes. It's only know, sitting in a cold cockpit of the transport plane that she finally understands.

What the dream shows her is a life she thought she wanted before the war, but now feels is forever out of her grasp. A peaceful home, with a loving family and someone to always stand on her side.

 _The right partner_.

The three ominous words dart in and out, but they are enough. Up until this point, there was only one person she considered to fit that description. Steve Rogers, the American golden boy, the perfect and honest man she loved. She sniffles when she remembers her escape from Isenstadt, how she dug out graves for both him and Bucky, how she cried in the dark woods until she had no tears left to spill. She now feels a single tear flow down her cheek as she swipes it off and steels herself. Now is not the time to muse about what could have been, now it's time to actually make the sacrifices of Steve and Bucky meaningful.

“Captain Carter!” she hears a voice from the pilot's seat. It's Pilot Officer Michaels, a young chap from the RAF, the commander of her flight. She had seen faces such as his hundreds of times, young boys eager to impress, only to be led to an inevitable slaughter of the battlefield.

“What is it, pilot?” she responds loudly, trying to overpower the roar of the engines.

“We're closing in on Red Skull's compound, ETA is 5 minutes...” he speaks, before a loud explosion interrupts him. Peggy looks up, just to see another transport aircraft roll on it's back, its cockpit engulfed in flames before plunges into the sea below, disintegrating as it hits the water.

“Aw, shite!” she hears him shout. “We've got flak coming from the compound!”

“Then avoid it!” she shouts back, feeling the aircraft shake from the shells exploding next to it.

“Yes, ma'am, I'm trying!” he responds, gripping the control column so hard his knuckles go white. As they close in, the AA fire is so dense the sky goes black. Listening in on the radio, she hears panicked voices, screams of terror and panic, prayers and the last goodbyes from those that got hit. She can feel her stomach churning and her heart beat faster, when suddenly the air stills. She looks over the panel to see their target – a giant fortress of concrete and steel etched into the coast.

The compound.

“Captain Carter, we're one minute out!” Michaels says, focused more than ever.

“Roger that. Keep it steady!” she responds, already moving towards the cargo ramp, checking her parachute for the last time. She reaches the cargo hold, full of supply crates for the forces that will be lucky enough to land in one piece. She tunes her radio and checks her trusty submachine gun. Then, she hers Michaels on her radio headphones.

“30 seconds to drop!”

She grabs the handle on the wall as the cargo door opens slowly, letting in the chilly, moist air. The plane is flying steady as Peggy observes the sea. Suddenly, though, the airplane shakes violently as she feels it dip towards the ground.

“Michaels, what's going on?” she shouts into the radio microphone. All she hears in response is static. She felt the plane pick up speed as it dives shallow into the ground. She sprints to the jumpseat, buckling in frantically and then hiding her head between her knees. Just a few seconds later, she feels the impact, as the plane bounces up and glides for a moment before crashing down again, tearing itself apart as it skids to a stop on the beach.

* * *

 

She slowly lifts her head up when the unbelievable commotion stops. She sees that the tail separated from the rest of the plane, as evidenced by a large hole to her right. She quickly looks at herself, moving her limbs to check for damage. She's unharmed, which fills her with momentary relief, before she unbuckles the safety harness and lifts herself up from the seat. She quickly moves to the exit, not wanting to stay in the wreckage any longer than necessary. Right after she exits, she sprints forward, taking in the surroundings. The beach is littered with plane wreckage and destroyed crates, as well as scarred by the bombs and artillery shells. Looking towards the compound towering over it, she sees a destroyed bunker. She sets her sights to get in it – the plans she got from Castle Wolfenstein indicated that the bunkers are joined by tunnels that the lead straight into the concrete fortress. As she enters the wrecked structure, she sees her theory confirmed – an open, steel door leading further towards the compound. She moves in, checking every corner, gun ready. She feels a tingle in her spine, the familiar feeling of tension of an upcoming battle.

She stops abruptly, hearing a voice from the room to the right. She lowers her stance and slows down her walk, not wanting to be heard. She peeks her head in and sees the source – a lone, German officer, hunched over a map, barking orders into his earpiece. Peggy thinks quickly – she lets her gun hang from her neck as she moves her hand to her thigh, unbuckling the sheath and pulling out her trusty knife. Low on her knees, she sneaks up to the officer, twisting the knife in her hand so that the blade points forward. When she is close, she rises up, letting the muscle memory kick in. Her left hand grabs him forcefully by the chin, pulling it upwards as she thrusts her right hand forward, the blade of the knife sinking into the flesh and brain just below the base of the skull. He doesn't scream or wriggle – she feels his body tense up as he hisses through his teeth. As the blade sinks further, she twists the hand, finishing the job. She pulls the knife out, letting his lifeless body crash against the table. She holsters the knife, grabs his pistol and moves back to the corridor, not even sparing a secondary glance on the room. She then hears a commotion further down the tunnel. She moves quickly, again preparing herself for an encounter.

She reaches a bend in the tunnel, when suddenly a German soldier comes tumbling from the side, crashing against the wall. Peggy is quick – she pulls the trigger, the burst hitting the target as he slumps down against the wall, blood pouring out onto the floor.

“Don't shoot, friendlies!”

Her lips curve into a small smile as she hears a familiar voice.

“I'm coming out!” she responds, rounding the corner. She doesn't even register when she is pulled into a tight hug. After a second, she wriggles out. Right in front of her are the Howlers – although she sees that not all of them are here. She sees Falsworth and Dum Dum, as well as Morita, although one of his eyes is covered by a bandage.

“Where's the rest, Dugan? And what happened to Morita?” she asks, tone inquisitive.

“We got hit bad by flak, Dernier fell out of the plane over the sea. Morita got a piece of the plane in the eye, we patched him up though.” he speaks, his tone morose. Peggy lowers her head and sighs.

_A good man murdered, another mauled._

“Hurts like hell, but I'll manage, Cap.” Morita spoke, gripping his gun harder.

“And Jones?” Peggy asked, whispering.

“We ran into some crazy dogs with metal jaws, they tore him apart before we could help.” he spoke again.

 _Panzerhunds._ Peggy thinks, remembering Castle Wolfenstein again. Another one of Schmidt's creations – dogs pumped with steroids, their jaws substituted by ones made of metal. Rabid, obedient, the perfect instrument of war.

She snaps out of her thoughts when she hears Falsworth cough.

“What now, Captain?” he asks.

“We're closer to Red Skull than we've been in years.” Peggy speaks again, her voice finally returning to normal. “Let's get him, no time to waste.”

All of the men nod in unison as Peggy takes the lead, taking them deeper into the complex. Soon, they find themselves in the fortress itself, fighting tooth and nail against the defenders. Even though the Germans have the numbers advantage, they do not have the experience. Peggy quickly loses count of the enemies she kills, her emotions shutting off, substituted by muscle memory and what the training and the missions at the SOE and the SSR taught her.

 _Be ruthless, show no mercy, take no prisoners_.

Those three phrases have etched themselves deep into her brain and she subconsciously remembers them every time she sees someone die from her hands. While for a while she thought of those principles as barbaric, the repeated experiences of seeing her fellow comrades wounded, tortured, dying have erased any lingering doubts in her head.

Soon, they all reach a small room. The walls are covered by a maze of pipes that later sprawl under the glass floor before they connect to what look like barrels, placed in the spaces in the concrete. Peggy moves to a door to the side of the room, only to find it opens from the other side.

“Dead end, gents.” she speaks, still inspecting the door. “We need to go back.”

“What's all this, then?” Falsworth asks, pointing to the floor.

“I don't...” Peggy starts to speak, when suddenly one of the cylinders bursts open. She watches dumbstruck as a large creature rises from the floor, a roar shattering the calm of the room. It looks like a giant man, only it's fully covered in black armor. It grabs Falsworth and throws him against the wall. She hears him groan from pain as he hits the wall and crashes down to the floor. The creature rises fully, huffing loudly as it stumbles. Peggy then notices a set of tubes rising from the armored neck and curving behind it's back. She squeezes the trigger, as she sees the bullets pierce the tubes, air escaping from them with a loud hiss. The behemoth falls down on it's knees, clutching at its neck before it collapses to the ground, motionless. Peggy looks at the lifeless body for a second, before remembering.

“Falsworth!” she cries out, running up to him. He manages to sit up against the wall breathing heavily and wincing.

“I'm fine, Peggy. Just a scratch.” he responds, before he coughs loudly, spitting out blood.

“Doesn't look like it.” she responds. “Can you stand up?”

He nods as he slowly pulls himself up, leaning against the wall.

“We need to get out of here, now!” Dugan says, looking panicked – something Peggy hasn't seen from him ever.

“I concur.” she replies, moving back to the door she checked before. As she reaches it, the panel on the height of her head snaps open. When she looks through the glass, she feels her blood go cold.

It's Schmidt, just like she remembers from the photos she saw before the landing. He tilts his head while he looks at her, a smile on his face growing wider and wider. Peggy moves quickly, banging the butt of the gun against the glass. It doesn't do anything, but she hits it again and again, roaring. He smirks back, when suddenly she hears a loud rumble. She turns her head and notices, in horror, that the whole wall is moving towards her and the Howlers.

“Ah, fuck!” Dugan swears. “What now, Peggy?”

Peggy doesn't answer, as she stops hitting the glass. She realizes this is the end – there is no escape. She turns around to look at the rest, their faces scrunched with pain and anguish. She widens her arms as she pulls them into a hug.

“It's been an honor to serve with you, Peggy.” Dugan says as they hug.

“Head up high. Let him see we won't falter.” she speaks, her tone determined, as she looks back at Schmidt, challenging him silently. Soon, the wall is squeezing them, sucking the air out of their lungs as they claw at it, desperate for oxygen.

“What are you people doing in here?” Schmidt asks, mockingly.

Peggy wants to respond, sass him back, but her vision blurs as she feels her body give out when her eyelids flutter shut.

* * *

 

_My people murdered._

_So many times._

_I lost count._

* * *

 

Peggy's thoughts materialize before she opens her eyes. She does that just in time to feel her arms being twisted behind her back and her wrists being cuffed together. She look up and behind and sees another creature, just like the one they killed in the room, hold her down against the ground. She then notices she has been stripped down to her underwear, her weapon and uniform gone. She looks around and sees Dum Dum, Morita and Falsworth, all in the same state as she is in.

“It's been long since I practiced my English.” she hears a voice to the side, the words spoken with a heavy German accent. “It's a dying tongue. I give it 5 years now before it goes extinct.”

She cranes her neck upwards and sees Schmidt. He is dressed in his black SS uniform, pristine clean and pressed. His eyes dart around the room, filled with glee as a smirk decorates his face.

“So we meet again, Captain Carter.” he speaks again, putting emphasis on the last two words. “I quite admire your resilience. Shame it will be all in vain.”

She tries to wriggle out, to wipe that smirk off his face. The only response is more force from the armored creature above her, as it now plants a knee at her lower back.

“I take you have met my _Übersoldaten_ already.” he gestures to the black giants. “Marvelous, aren't they. And performing so well when it's just their combat debut.”

“We killed one, so I wouldn't gloat so much, Herr Schmidt.” Peggy answers, her voice strained.

“What is one in an army of thousands?” the German continues. “A bullet point in a long list.”

Peggy does not have an answer to that.

“Now, I wish I could stay here for longer, but I'm afraid I don't have the time. I will, however, make sure you are properly punished for your resistance against the Reich.” he speaks as he fiddles with a control panel of the wall. Then, Peggy hears a rumble coming from the ceiling, as Schmidt gestures for the creatures to walk out. As the last beast leaves the room, he turns around and waves at them, still smiling.

“ _Auf Wiedersehen!_ ” he exclaims before the door shuts.

“Bollocks, where are we?” Falsworth shouts out as he rolls on his back.

Peggy takes in the surroundings – high walls and windows, a maze of pipes decorating the ceiling, metal slabs with drain canals, nozzles with a faint pilot light...

“It's an incinerator.” she speaks, stressed “He wants to burn us alive!”

“Like hell he will!” Morita shouts as he manages to pull his legs through the gap in his arms, so that his hands are in the front. As Peggy and the rest mimic his actions, he throws a pipe at her legs.

“Grab that pipe and smash the nozzles! It will delay the fire!”

She complies as she swings, cuffs limiting her moves but not as badly as she thought. She then sprints to the window, only to find it blocked by a steel shutter. She glances around and sees an electrical box to the side. Before she can open it, Dugan takes a swing at her cuffs with the pipe, breaking them open.

“Thanks.” she responds before opening the box. She quickly hotwires the shutter and it opens, as the rumble in the pipes becomes unbearable.

“All right, gents, we have to jump. On three..”

“One.”

“Two.”

“THREE.” she screams as they all jump out. She feels the explosion behind her, as it propels her forward, when suddenly she feels something hit her in the back of her head. Her eyes flutter shut as she loses consciousness, before she hits the water. Her body surfaces, a wooden plank behind her back holding her afloat the current carries her away from the compound, into the cold sea.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Gdynia, Reichsgau Danzig - Westpreußen, July 1946**

 

The shrill of the alarm clock on the nightstand pierces the silence blanketing the bedroom. Daniel grunts into the pillow, pulled away from his sleep. He opens his eyes and quickly silences the clock, marveling at the calm that manages to settle itself back in the room. He stretches his arm and his left leg before pulling the covers away and sitting down on the bed. He blinks a few times as his vision clears from the wake-up haze, before grabbing his crutch standing buy the bed and moving towards the shower. He stays in there for a while, busy with washing himself and later shaving, paying special attention to his stump. It's been two years already, but every day serves as a reminder for him of what he lost. The worst time were the first six months, but even now he has days where the phantom pain is too much to handle, where he again thinks of what-could-have-beens that will never come true. Outside of that, however, he manages to cope. The papers the Armia Krajowa supplies him with help as well – the forged discharge letter from the SS and the similarly forged letter of commendation from his supposed CO manage to open many doors and sometimes even earn him full Nazi salutes if he wanders into the more fanatical followers of the regime.

He chuckles when this thought crosses his mind while he rubs the ointment into the stump. His OSS training always put emphasis on blending in and not sticking out like a sore thumb. His disability is now another part of his cover – a Portuguese volunteer to the SS who lost his leg on the Ostfront and has now settled in occupied Poland. As he tightens the straps of his prosthetic, he suddenly hears three quick raps on his door. He listens in as they are followed by two more forceful ones. He sighs in relief – it's one of the resistance couriers, probably bringing in a new assignment. He quickly puts on his trousers and shoes as he moves to open the door.

He inches them open to see the face of the guest, but he sees no one. He then looks down and notices a piece of folded paper just next to the door. He closes it and picks up the message.

**GRANDPA DEAD, FUNERAL IN TWO DAYS.**

He reads before folding the paper back and moving to the bathroom to flush it down the toilet. As he watches the water spin in the toilet bowl, he feels his heart beat faster.

 _So we failed._ He thinks, not even trying to imagine the consequences. The message, short, concise and vague enough to fool anyone not intended to see it, speaks volumes.

The assault on Schmidt's compound failed. And they were to go dark in two days, ceasing any spy and sabotage activities, as their handlers will not be able to support them anymore.

Daniel sighed loudly as he put on his coat. Fighting a war was one thing, but keeping up his image was another. And him not going to work at the hospital would certainly jeopardize his cover. He puts on his hat as he leaves his apartment. Soon, he's on the street, moving to his workplace. It's a psych ward, run by a friend of the resistance. After Warsaw, the Poles really went out of their way to help Daniel, not only creating a whole fake identity, but also supplying him with the prosthetic, an apartment and a place where he could work without raising too many red flags. He surmises that he will never be able to pay off this debt, but at the same time he's never felt pressure from the other side, only reassurance and comfort. He reaches the building after a short walk and moves to the locker room, to grab his white coat. After a moment, he's back, leaving his signature in the book and moving towards the common room for the personnel of the ward.

As he enters, he sees a man sitting in the armchair, reading a file. It's doctor Zieliński, one of the reasons Daniel can keep his cover up. They are both playing a very dangerous game of cat and mouse with the omnipotent and ever-present Gestapo, which makes their friendship even more pronounced.

“Hello, doctor.” Daniel says, leaning slightly on his crutch.

“Hey, Daniel, how are you?” he responds, lifting his head to look Daniel in the eye.

Daniel decides not to beat around the bush and cuts straight to the chase.

“Did you get the message?”

The doctor looks at him for a moment before lowering his head again.

“Yes.” he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Horrible, isn't it.”

Daniel stays silent. He hasn't put much thought into what was going to happen now, but he knows the prospect of him going back home seems as far away as ever.

“Regardless...” Zieliński continues “...we still have our jobs here to do.”

“Of course.” Daniel answers. “I would never even think of leaving you alone with all this.”

“I would have probably found someone new had that happened.” he responds. “But I do appreciate your loyalty.”

“And I still have an eternal debt to you for what you have done for me.” Daniel responds, truthfully.

The doctor only waves him off in response. Daniel smiles lightly.

“Now, I'm going to go check on the patients.” Zieliński says, rising from the armchair. “There is a new one coming today, read up, she'll be coming soon.” he finishes, handing Daniel the file he was studying earlier.

Daniel nods as he settles on the couch, leaving his couch propped on the armrest. He quickly notes how thin the folder is before opening it.

The contents of the file are scarce. The identification card, without a photograph, with blank spaces for the name, surname and date of birth. A report stating she was found drifting in the sea by some fishermen. Brain x-rays with the doctor's commentary, noting the extensive damage. The last paper is the diagnosis – trauma-induced coma. Prognosis – very low chance of recovery.

Daniel sighs as he puts down the file. He knows this type of patient fairly well – people trapped within their own bodies, unable to function, on the full mercy of others. He shudders as he thinks this might have been his fate, had he not recovered from having his leg crushed under the rubble that used to be a tenement house in the Warsaw Old Town. He snaps out of his musings, reminding himself of the job he has to do. As he exits the room, he suddenly finds himself standing right in front of the doctor.

“She's here.” he said. “Read the file?”

“Yes.” Daniel answers. After a moment, he sees one of the female nurses pushing a wheelchair with a woman sitting in it. He takes a moment to study her – her brown hair, pinned over her shoulders, her brown eyes gazing into the distance, her arms and legs that look like they were sculpted from marble. For a second, he feels something welling up in his stomach, but whatever it is it subsides quickly. As he helps place her on the bed, he can't help but notice how beautiful she looks when the sun illuminates her face from behind the window.

“You're in good hands.” he says in German, and thinks he sees her eyes glisten for a moment. After that he leaves the room, his crutch beating out a steady rhythm on the floor.

* * *

When Peggy first notices that her body does not respond to her commands, she panics.

Through all those years of training and combat she learned to trust it and embrace it strength. Now, she feels betrayed. After that, guilt washes over her as she feels that she hadn't done enough and it's her fault. That thought disappears quickly, only to be substituted by fear.

 _I can't defend myself_.

She thinks as she realizes that her ability to choose her own path has been taken away from her. Now, she will be fully at the mercy of others.

The thought makes her heart beat so fast she can hear it thudding against her ribs.

Her memories after the fall to the moment she arrives at the psych ward are hazy at best and impossible to decipher at worst. She remembers the feeling of being fished out of the water, being laid out on the cold wooden deck of the boat. She remembers the clinic the fishermen took her, the poking and prodding of the doctors and nurses. The worst memory is the one of a German officer, staring down her eyes, as if trying to see into her soul. She doesn't recall the context, but she remembers the icy gaze, filled with the desire to kill. It haunts her all the way from the clinic to the ward.

As she is wheeled in into the room, she takes notice of two men standing in it. The one on the left looks older as he looks to his clipboard.

_The doctor._

Her attention shifts to the younger-looking man in the room. She takes in his features – his strong jaw, slicked, black hair and strong arms. If she were able to speak, she would sum him up as _dapper_. Then, she notices the crutch, but does not dwell on it too much – she knows far too well how a human can damage another humans body to a point where it becomes mangled, never to be rebuild fully again. Then, he and the female nurse that pushed her wheelchair both move up, grabbing her by the legs and under the shoulders as they put her on the bed. The man is grabbing her up her shoulders and Peggy feels his grip – strong, but at the same time weirdly soothing, as if he was trying to anchor her, to show her she still exists outside of the prison of her own body. Soon enough, she is settled under the covers as the nurse lowers his head, staring her right in the eyes, his gaze soft and compassionate.

“You are in good hands.” he says to her in German, his voice stern and warm.

It's then that Peggy actually feels safe for the first time since the assault on the compound. She tries to chastise herself for that – _For God's sake, this guy might be a Gestapo agent who will slit her throat when no one is looking_ – but her instinct suddenly tells her to trust him.

It's not like she will have choice in the matter, but she suddenly feels _just right_.

And maybe for now that is enough.


	3. Chapter 3

London falls one month after Peggy is wheeled in.

It's the nurse with the crutch - Daniel, she remembers - who delivers the news, as he hooks up an IV and prepares to feed her breakfast. Since she got to the hospital he keeps her company most of the time, be it by talking to her, administering meals or massaging her muscles to prevent atrophy. She sees he tries to be as neutral as possible, but she can see the cracks in the facade, little hints that tell her the news shook him to the bone. At first, the information does not hit her at all – another piece of news she was somehow expecting to hear sooner or later. Hell, during the assault she saw plans for the invasion of Scotland displayed on the walls and after the failure of the last attack the fall of Great Britain was a foregone conclusion.  
It's only after a few hours that the gravity of the situation really sinks in.

Her homeland has fallen. Her friends and the rest of her family left to fend for themselves under the Nazi boot. She wants to cry, punch the wall in anger, but her body does not listen. She doesn't blank out for the whole night, running all the possible scenarios through her head, slowly escalating from careful optimism to soul-crushing pessimism. She falls into sleep the next morning, tired from the mental gymnastics and sorrow. She wakes up in the evening, before slumping back into unconsciousness again.

Peggy still can't properly define her state, even as days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. She is conscious most of the time, however sometimes she slumps into long periods of complete blankness that can last up to two days. Soon they move her into a bigger common room, placing her in a wheelchair to make space for the other patients. Since she can't move by herself, she observes. She was always good at that – one of the perks of being an agent, saboteur and a soldier. Most of the days are marked with routine – meals, free time, administering pills and shots for those that need them. Faces change as some patients wander in and out of the room, as nurses and doctors change shifts.

There are, however, other days. The ones that shatter the routine into the smallest of fragments.

It's always early morning when they come. Two officers and four soldiers in black uniforms, armed to the teeth. The soldiers gather up the patients, putting shackles on their hands and ankles, forming a chain gang. The officers talk to the doctor, shove papers for him to sign.

He always fights. Raises his voice, throws the papers to the ground, shoves the hand with the pen away from him.

The officers – the older one with an eye patch and the younger one following his every step – only stand there, their arms crossed at their chests, smirks decorating their faces. The doctor argues on and on, but always finally relents. Daniels is always close by, standing next to one of the regular soldiers. He doesn't speak, but Peggy always sees how his posture tenses up, how he grips his crutch so hard his knuckles go white.

He looks as if he wants to pounce, to attack anyone closest to him, to stop the inevitable.

He never does, and when the soldiers and the patients leave, both of them slump at the table in the corner alongside the rest of the staff, defeated.

The cycle continues as the months go on, yet every time Peggy is spared from the fate of the rest of the patients. She knows what awaits them – a one-way trip to a gas chamber or to the torture chamber of Schmidt and his cronies. She can't help but feel powerless, reduced to a spectator of evil, unable to intervene.

* * *

Daniel tells her the truth about himself just before the end of the year.

She always thought he had something to hide – her observational skills and distrust of strangers took care of that.

When he comes in in the evening, he looks absolutely devastated. His hair is disheveled, his eyes are puffed red and he has some trouble in keeping himself steady. When he sits down next to her, she sees, more than smells, that he had one drink too many. He sits there silently before gulping loudly.

“They did it... the fuckers did it.” he says, his voice broken, “Just like that. A whole city...”

Peggy feels her heart constrict – not only because seeing Daniel in so much pain hurts, but because she also feels the news he is about to deliver is going to be painful.

He sighs before he speaks again.

“They... they dropped a bomb on New York.” he speaks, his voice barely a whisper. “Just one. And yet the whole city is... gone. Nothing left.”

If Peggy could, she would scream. She feels sadness and hopelessness overwhelm her as Daniel composes himself again, wiping the tear tracks from his cheeks.

“They are saying the US is to surrender soon.” he continues, punctuating the sentence with a shaky exhale. “Guess it's the end. We've lost.”

_Wait a moment..._

“Oh, I never told you.” he gasps, covering his face with his hand.

And then he tells her everything. The OSS, the work for the Resistance, the injury and what happened afterwards. With every sentence spoken Peggy's doubts float away as Daniel lowers his defenses and rips off the mask. Of course, there are doubts in her head whether everything he's saying is true, but somehow her gut tells her he's not lying.

Besides, no one can be that good with simulating defeat as he is. Not by a large margin.

After a moment, he finishes, and slumps down on the chair he pulled up, his shoulders shaking as he sobs, his head hidden behind his hands.

She wants to comfort him, at least grab his hand, but she can't.

That thought fills her with even more sadness. For a moment she thinks she will never be happy again, with the world as they know crumbling around them.

Although, with Daniel's confession, she then thinks she at least has one person she can trust.

And, as it turns out throughout the next few years, it's enough to keep her afloat.

* * *

Year 1960 comes faster than she expects.

It's been nearly 14 years since she fell from the compound and got herself into the mess she is in now. The world has changed, crushed under the Nazi boot with no hope of ever coming back to normal again.

The feeling of dread of being taken away from the hospital is always there, in the back of Peggy's mind. The soldiers come and go, however, always somehow leaving her alone in the corner, a silent witness to their crimes.

When days like these come, she always appreciates Daniel's company even more. Over the years, she found herself developing feelings of companionship for him, even though she hadn't even spoken to him once. At first, she tried to not to think too much about it, but soon it was impossible to avoid. The moments when Daniel was near her, talking or otherwise, filled her with relief and at least some happiness and at least let her escape from dark thoughts.

It's a sunny, March morning when she thinks about how their meeting would look if there was no war to fight and the world was at peace. Daniel is right next to her, sitting on a chair and preparing a sandwich for himself. He tells her about the recent news, but she does not register all the word, still caught up in her daydream. Suddenly, she hears a commotion from the corridor as Daniel stands up, gripping his crutch and moving towards the middle of the room.

Soon, the reason for the noise is known. It's the death squad again, as they enter the room, boisterous and proud. The doctor moves behind them, shouting, demanding explanations. Suddenly, the older officer grasps him by the shoulder.

“You see, doctor.” he speaks, his tone relaxed. “You have done a lot of good work throughout all those years. Right now, we see no reason for you to continue. The ward will be shut down.”

“You can't do this!” the doctor responds.

“Don't worry. You've done your job.” he says as he nods at the second officer. “Continue.”

Then he walks out, with the soldiers in tow. The younger officer then moves to the bed when one of the patients lies.

After that, it's one swift motion – he pull out the pistol from the holster, puts a pillow over the head of the defenseless man and pulls the trigger. Blood and feathers shoot up as the deafening sound of the gunshot fills the room, making Peggy's ears ring. She then suddenly feels her fingernails dig into the skin of her palm.

_Wait, what?_

She then looks down – another surprise – and sees her hand curled into a fist. As she looks up again, she sees the doctor and the officer locked together in a scuffle, with Daniel and a female nurse all trying to overpower the Nazi. As she watches, Peggy slowly feels her toenails curl. Even before she registers it, she grabs the knife Daniel used to make his meal and hides it behind her back, her training kicking in. Then, she hears another gunshot as the female nurse clutches her stomach and falls to the ground, blood seeping through her coat. She watches as Daniel catches an elbow to the face and loses balance, falling to the floor. The officer straightens out, anger twisting his face as he shoots the doctor right between the eyes, before turning his gun towards Daniel. Peggy feels her blood chill as she tightens her grip on the knife.

Suddenly, two soldiers burst into the room.

“What's going on?” one of them asks.

“They attacked an officer on duty!” the leader responds, shaking with anger.

“We had no orders to kill the staff!” the soldier answers, his voice trembling.

“And what with this one?” the other grunt asks, pointing his rifle at Daniel.

“I don't know.” the officer says, slightly calmer. “Take him away to Kruger. He will know!”

The soldiers comply, dragging Daniel away. Peggy now feels her blood boiling as anger overtakes her. She can't leave Daniel on the mercy of those savages, she needs to act.

The officer moves towards her quickly, flipping the small table in front of her in anger, muttering expletives. Then, she sees the barrel of the pistol just inches from her face.

 _It's time_.

She lunges forward, standing up as her left hand hits the officer in the wrist. He's shocked, his expression puzzled as the force of the hit makes him turn slightly, the arm with the gun lowering itself to the floor. Peggy's hand with the knife moves quickly as she feels it sink into the flesh of the side of the neck. The Nazi gasps and then splutters as blood floods his throat. He tries to move, but Peggy is faster as she grabs him by the chin and thrusts the blade deeper, twisting it as the officer gargles.

“Nazi wanker!” she spits out as his body goes limp. She releases him, pulling the knife out as his body tumbles to the floor, blood pooling around his neck. She stands for a moment breathing heavily as she turns her head towards the door.

_Daniel. Where did they take you?_

 


	4. Chapter 4

As it turns out, 14 years of not being able to move makes things a bit difficult.

Peggy finds this out the hard way – just as she takes the first step forward she immediately loses balance, trips and falls to the floor. Her vision blurs out for a while before it manages to refocus, although the dizziness is still there, making the world around her float around. She catches her breath as she steadies herself on the floor, fighting to defeat the numbness spreading in her. It takes her a small while but soon she recovers, standing up again. She quickly picks up the gun the officer dropped after she stabbed him in the neck. It's slightly heavier than she remembers and it looks far more sleek and modern than the one she nicked from the officer in the compound in 1946. She quickly rummages through the Nazi's body, grabbing the spare magazines and his knife. As she tucks them behind the waistband of her pants, she hears a commotion down the hallway, noting the distinct clatter of heavy combat boots closing in towards the room. She quickly darts to the right side of the door and prepares herself. Soon, it swings open and two soldiers waltz back in. Even before they notice the dead body or her, Peggy acts. She raises the pistol, aimed at the back of the head of the first grunt and pulls the trigger. The gunshot makes her ears ring again as the soldier looses his footing and drops dead to the floor with a loud thud. The second Nazi only manages to turn his head before Peggy shoots him, this time opting for the double tap to the head. She quickly peeks out towards the corridor to see whether more are coming, but the only thing she sees is two dead bodies propped up by the wall. Still tense, she grabs one of the assault rifles on the floor, sparing a moment to grab some spare ammo, just in case. The pistol then lands in a hip holster she strips off the dead officer as she finally leaves the room, still slightly dazed by the fact she can control her body again.

She moves slowly, peeking into every room, checking every corner, nook and cranny, just like she remembers from the room clearing course she passed during the SOE training. All she sees is death and destruction the rest of the SS squad left in its wake – broken glass, dead bodies, smears of blood on the walls and the floor and bullet holes in the doors. She had seen that image far too often in her life and another iteration of it stings badly. For now, she pushes it into the back of her mind as she comes closer and closer to the exit. She stops right at the door, putting her left ear to it and listening in. She hears three muffled voices, although she can't distinguish words. She then moves her left hand towards the handle and pushes it lightly, allowing the door to inch open slightly. She takes a quick peek and sees the two remaining grunts and another officer, the one with the eye patch. Not wasting any more time, she lifts up the gun and pulls the trigger, aiming at the group. The force of the recoil startles her for a moment, forcing her to stop firing and roll away from the door.

Just in time, it seems, as a row of bullet holes redecorates the wood, chipping off paint and throwing splinters everywhere. Peggy ducks and waits, and just as the gunshots cease she runs up to the exit again, pushing the door fully open. The Nazi that fired back at her is now on his knee, frantically trying to reload. She doesn't give him that luxury as she shoots, dispatching him with a short burst. She then glances towards the car and spots the person she was trying so hard to find.

At first, a chill runs down her spine. Daniel is laying on the backseat of the car, his hands tied behind his back. His eyes are shut and Peggy then spots blood flowing out of his nose. She breaths a sigh of relief – dead people don't bleed, after all – as she sprints to the vehicle. She opens the door and a quick check confirms her suspicions – Daniel isn't dead, just knocked out cold with a broken nose. Closing the door, she quickly gets into the driver's seat, luckily finding the keys in the ignition. It doesn't take her a long time before she drives off, leaving the death and destruction she saw at the hospital behind her.

* * *

When Daniel regains consciousness, the first thing he feels is the pulsating pain originating from his nose. He screws his eyes shut and hisses, as the pain intensifies. He is then suddenly conscious of the fact that his hands are tied, his crutch is on the floor, he's in a car and there's an assault rifle propped against the passenger seat. He looks to the driver's seat and then gasps loudly.

_It's not possible._

_Am I hallucinating?_

“Daniel?” the woman's hoarse, British-accented voice pierces the silence. He feels the car slow down and stop as she turns her head to face him.

It shouldn't be possible, and yet the woman from the hospital is there, speaking to him, behind the wheel of the car. He glances and spots a holster attached to her pants as well as a knife handle right next to it.

“Um...” Daniel hums, nodding at the handle. “Could you...?”

“Oh, of course.” she responds, her voice still strained as she grabs the knife and turns around. It takes a bit of shuffling and wriggling, but in the end Daniel is finally free, rubbing his wrists to ease the pain.

“Thanks...” he says, before realizing he doesn't even know her name.

“Peggy.” she responds, noting his expression. “Peggy Carter, SSR. If it still exists, of course.”

He doesn't respond, his mind still racing, as his hand moves towards his nose.

“It's broken.” Peggy says before he touches it. “You bled a bit, but it stopped.. You might want to clean it up.”

“Yes, of course.” he responds, reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket. A wipe to the lip confirms Peggy's words, as the fabric turns crimson.

“The SSR.” he says , still wiping the blood off his lips and chin. “Didn't meet any agents, but heard enough. Cream of the crop.”

Peggy smiles faintly, although Daniel notes sadness in her eyes.

“I worked with a few OSS people.” she responds, her voice quivering slightly. “But it was quite a long time ago.”

Daniel nods in response, unable to find words. The silence is suddenly broken by a loud thud coming from the back of the car. Both Peggy and Daniel freeze, looking quizzically at each other. Then the thudding resumes, alongside a muffled scream coming from what seems like the boot of the car.

“Seems like we have an uninvited passenger.” Peggy says, her tone calm.

“Sure does.” Daniel replies, before an idea creeps into his mind. He looks around to get his bearings and, after a second speaks again.

“Follow my instructions. I know a place where we can lay low and take care of our guest.”

* * *

The place turns out to be a small, wooden house just outside of Gdynia. As she pulls in, Peggy notices a small shed next to the building. She turns off the engine and walks out of the car, Daniel following suit. Just before she opens the boot, she unholsters the pistol, her instinct telling her the “guest” isn't going to be friendly. Then, she presses the button and the lid pops open, revealing the officer with the eye patch. Peggy actually feels slightly happier when she smacks him in the temple with the grip of the pistol, knocking him out cold.

“I've been dreaming of doing this for a while.” Daniel says.

“Me too.” Peggy responds before dragging the lax body out of the boot.

“I'll go to the house and look for something to eat.” Daniel says, already turning towards the building. “Can you take care of him? There should be some space in the shed.”

“Of course.” Peggy responds. Soon, they part, Daniel moving into the house while she drags the Nazi to the smaller building. As she opens the door, she spots a chair in the middle. She makes use of it, placing the body in a sitting position before noticing leather straps on the legs and armrests. She makes use of them quickly, tying the officer up. Standing up, she then notices a rather large chainsaw propped against the wall next to a pair of googles, a pair of leather gloves and a dirty apron hanging from a hook. She makes a mental note of their existence before exiting the shed and moving towards the house. Inside, she notes the unpainted walls and simple furniture before she moves to the kitchen. Daniel is already there, holding up two bottles and two cans of food.

“All I found was some sparkling water and those, don't know what's inside.” he exclaims.

“Good you found anything.” she responds, her voice slightly less strained. “What is this place?”

“An old safe house of the OSS.” he replies. “Can't remember when was the last time I set foot in this place.”

“It does seem empty.” she retorts, taking the bottle and the can from his hands, opening the lid with the knife and twisting the cap off. After that, she lends the knife to Daniel, who repeats her actions. They eat in silence for a minute, focusing only on the food and drink. It's after Peggy polishes off the can (that turned out to be a Pâté of sorts) that she speaks, taking a swig from the bottle.

“So, is there even any resistance left?”

Daniel takes a deep breath.

“Honestly? No idea. Most of the guys I had contact with either went dark or disappeared. We both know what happened in London and New York. I only heard rumors...”

“And what are those?” Peggy cuts him off, nodding encouragingly.

“That there is some. In Berlin. Imprisoned, but alive” he says, observing as Peggy's face fills with hope.

”Berlin?” she says, curious.

“Yes, but I don't know anything more. OK, I heard what group they belonged to.”

“What was it?” she asks.

“The Kreisau Circle.”

Peggy's mouth hangs open in shock. She knows that name far too well – she met some Kreisau Circle fighters in Isenstadt, and the news that they may still be alive boosts her morale tremendously. A voice in the back of her head tells her it's a longshot – _it's been 18 years, for God's sake_ – but her gut tells her there might be something to it.

“Do you think that wanker we found in the boot knows something?” she asks, taking another swig from the bottle.

Daniel thinks for a moment.

“Maybe. Kruger's a Colonel in the SS and he always boasted how he rubbed shoulders with Schmidt himself.”

“Does that chainsaw in the shed work?” she suddenly asks. Daniel's expression turns both quizzical and surprised at the same time.

“I...I... think it does. Why do you ask?” he says, still not understanding why she asked that.

“I have a plan.”

* * *

It's after Peggy donned the goggles, the apron and the gloves and actually tested that the chainsaw does work that Kruger stirs himself awake. His drowsiness subsides quickly as he tries to wriggle out of the shackles.

“I wouldn't waste my time, they won't break.” Peggy says as she emerges from the shadow into the dim light of the light bulb.

“You!” he snarls back, still trying to free himself, before he stills, panting.

“See? I told you.” she deadpans while grabbing the chainsaw off the floor. She smirks as she sees his eyes widen in shock. She then walks over towards him positioning herself so that he can't see her.

“Now, this can either get really messy or it can end quickly.” she continues, unfazed. “I will ask you one question. You will answer that question in a way that I find satisfactory and if you don't... let's just say, your head will roll. Literally.”. To punctuate that, she starts the appliance and revs it up, hearing a faint whimper over the sound of the engine.

“What I want to know is...” she holds for a beat before continuing “...is where you keep the resistance fighters.”

Kruger looks at her for a second before bursting into laughter. Peggy rolls her eyes in disgust as she watches him. He continues to laugh for a second before composing himself.

“Oh, you silly goose.” he says, his tone condescending. “There is no resistance. We crushed them all. Just like we will crush you.”. His tone turns icy at the end as he spits.

Peggy sighs in response, revving up the chainsaw to full power as she slowly starts to lower it towards Kruger's neck.

“NEIN! NEIN, NEIN, STOP, OK, I TELL YOU! SCHEIßE!“ he screams in terror as Peggy pulls the appliance away.

“THE RESISTANCE FIGHTERS, WHERE ARE THEY?!” she screams herself, just inches from his ear.

The Nazi whimpers as his breathing slows down before he speaks, voice trembling.

“Berlin, Eisenwald Prison.”

Suddenly, however, he raises his chin and looks Peggy right in the eye.

“But you'll never get there. They will catch you both, you and that useless cripple. And then we will kill you both like the _schweine_ you are!”

Peggy does not even grace that with an answer as she revs up the chainsaw for the last time this morning.

* * *

Daniel notices Peggy emerging from the shed nearly half an hour after she went in. She walks back at a briskly pace, determined, her shoulders set straight. She strides into the living room, where Daniel is sitting.

“And?” he asks.

“I know all I need.” she answers before she starts rummaging through the wardrobe. “Prepare yourself, we're going.”

“Where?” Daniels asks again, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Berlin.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Daniel blinks.

“Berlin?” he asks, uncertainty clear in his voice. “What did Kruger tell you?”

“Let's just say the rumours you heard are true.” she replies, opening the closet in the makeshift bedroom. He can't help notice how her hospital uniform is stained with red splotches. “The Nazis keep those whom they particularly dislike in Berlin.” She then whirls around, holding a pair of blue trousers and a white shirt in her hands.

“I've got to change.” she deadpans, although Daniel can see some redness spreading on her cheeks. “Could you...?”

“Yes, of course.” he replies quickly as he swirls around, trying to brush off the images his mind tries to come up with.

“So...” he speaks again, taking a deep breath. “What exactly did he say?”

“Aside from what I have already told you, I know exactly where they are kept,” she said, her voice echoing through the empty rooms. “they call it the Eisenwald Prison.”

“ _Steel Forest,_ ” Daniel replies. “Doesn't sound too inviting, does it.”

“Not really,” Peggy says, as Daniel hears the rustling of material. “but it wouldn't hurt to try. Do you know anything about that place?”

“Again, rumors only.” Daniel replies, slowly sitting back down on the kitchen chair, still facing away. “It's supposed to be a prison to end all prisons. Heavily guarded by the best SS soldiers, the inmates... those whom the Nazis _really_ wants locked away for good. Supposedly no one has ever managed to escape. A few of my friends...”

He stops at this, the memories suddenly fresh in his mind. Suddenly he feels a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. He turns around and sees Peggy right next to him, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“They never came back?” she asks softly.

“No,” he replies “one day I wished them a good night, the second I heard they took them to Eisenwald.” He then feels her squeeze harder.

“I guess we can't just get on the next train to Berlin, can we?” she asks as she retracts her hand.

“Not really,” Daniel answers. “firstly, you have no documents and while I have some, it would be best if after what happened I ditched them altogether. Secondly, our best shot at reaching Berlin is via train, and those are always full of soldiers and police.”

Peggy kept nodding as he spoke. Daniel swore he could see the cogs in her brain turning.

“So, we will need two sets of documents with plausible covers, as well as train tickets. Outside of that, a place to stay when we get there.”

“The last part shouldn't be too hard. But the first two...” Daniel thought, when suddenly he rose up from the chair.

“Daniel?” Peggy asked, surprised.

“I know a guy.”

* * *

A few tense hours later they stand in front of a door to an apartment. Daniel draws his breaths as he knocks – three quick raps, two slow ones and then another three quick ones. The silence that falls around them after he is done is overwhelming. Suddenly, however, they both hear a commotion inside as the lock turns. The door then inches open slightly.

“ _Kto_...” a male voice flows out onto a corridor as a face makes an appearance in the crack. The man eyes them both for a second before Daniel sees the flicker of recognition.

“Sousa?” the man asks in a whisper before he turns his head, eyeing Peggy suspiciously. “And who is she?”

“She's a friend. Don't worry.” he replies as he moves forward a bit. “We're in need of some of your... resources, Stefan.”

The man nods as he swings the door open, inviting them in with a hand gesture. He motions them to sit in the kitchen as he moves off to one of the rooms.

“One of the people from the local resistance. Expert forger and quite the card player.” Daniel says, noting how tense Peggy's shoulders are set. Her head turns around taking in the spartan decor of the house. Then, the man reappears, holding a bottle of a transparent liquid in one hand and three small glasses. He sets everything on the table and pours the liquid out before sitting down.

“Out of all people, you are the last one I expected.” Stefan says, grabbing the glass and downing it in one go, exhaling loudly after he sets it back down.

“I wouldn't come if there wasn't something important on the line,” Daniel says “and I know you can keep a secret.”

“So, who are you, then?” Stefan asks, pointing his finger at Peggy. She cocks her head to the side.

“Firstly, you tell me who you are, and then I will tell my whole story. From 1946 onward, anyway.”

Stefan nods as he begins speaking, pouring himself another glass.

“Name's Stefan Maciejski. During the war I was with the resistance over here, forged papers, smuggled guns, all that sort. When it ended I went dark, just like they ordered us. In retrospect a bullet to the head would have been a better alternative.” he ends as he drinks again.

“I'm Peggy Carter, SSR. In 1946 I was a part of the attack on Johann Schmidt's compound...” she pauses as Stefan spits onto the floor.

“It was a bloodbath, wasn't it?” he asks, tone compassionate.

“Yes,” Peggy continues. “I was one of the lucky ones. I fell into a coma, got rescued and then put in a mental hospital. I woke up from it today.”

She keeps her lips level as Stefan gapes in disbelief. He turns to Daniel, who only offers him a small nod.

“Really?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“Yes.” she replies, punctuating it with a swift downing of her glass. She coughs as alcohol burns her throat.

 _It's been too long_ , she thinks as she exhales.

“What will you both need, then?” Stefan says, his eyes jumping from Daniel to Peggy and back again.

“Two full sets of documents. We're going on a train trip. Some clothes would be nice as well. And money.” Daniel says, shifting in his chair slightly.

Stefan spares the last glance before he moves out of the kitchen into an adjacent room, leaving Peggy and Daniel alone. Daniel focuses on the full glass in front of him as a torrent of incoherent thoughts and fears crashes through his mind. He quickly grabs it and downs it in one go, feeling his hand shake as he sets the glass back down. Then, he feels Peggy's hand on his own, offering at least some degree of comfort. He looks up and locks eyes with hers, sensing compassion and support. He quickly switches the angle so that he can also squeeze in return, hoping his facial expression conveys the same feelings. He sees Peggy's lips curve into a small smile, before he hears commotion in the other room.

“Come here, I'm ready!” Stefan exclaims, his voice muffled by the wall.

Daniel gets up as fast as he can, Peggy right next to him as he moves to the room.

* * *

An hour later, they are both sitting in a train to Warsaw, in an empty compartment. Now that they have some privacy, Daniel quickly checks the documents while Peggy nods off, the black cap from her uniform pulled over her eyes. They both opted to disguise themselves as an officer-adjutant pair, with Peggy in the higher-ranking role. Their first test – buying the tickets to Berlin – went off without a hitch, both the station clerk and the patrolling soldiers clearly intimidated by Peggy's rank and posture, supplemented by her perfect German. It's one of the things Daniel spotted earlier – Peggy always walking with her shoulders straight, head held up high, her face determined. He chuckles as he remembers one guard scurrying away from her path just before they entered the train.

The ride is long, but after 4 hours they finally reach Warsaw. They don't spend much time there, only switching to the overnight train to Berlin as the sun goes down. It's already dark outside as they leave the station, settling in for the journey. When Peggy leaves to get some coffee, Daniel sits down on the berth, taking off the jacket, the shirt and the pants as he starts working on the straps of the prosthetic. When he's finally done he exhales loudly and slumps back, finally able to lie down after such an exhausting day. Before he can cover himself with the blanket, however, Peggy walks back in, carrying the coffee tray with two cups. She closes the door to the compartment before setting it down on the small table near the window and sitting down on her own berth. Daniel eyes her carefully but the second she turns to face him, his gaze drops. Silence hangs between them for a moment, before Peggy breaks it.

“How long?” she asks, her voice soft and trembling slightly.

As Daniel finds courage to look up, he expects to find pity in her eyes. However, he does not. Peggy's eyes are glassy and he thinks her lip wobbles a bit, but the look she gives him is as far from pity as you can possibly get.

“Since 1944.” he responds, releasing a breath he didn't even think he had in his lungs.

“Does it hurt?” she asks again, moving closer, her hand splaying on the blanket just below the scarred stump.

“In itself, no,” Daniel says, straightening his back against the pillow “but sometimes I feel like the leg is whole again... and it hurts bad then.”

Peggy doesn't respond at first, eyeing the limb intently.

“May I...” she speaks, so quietly Daniel thinks she's only breathing at first. He hears blood thrumming in his veins as his heart speeds up.

“Daniel?” she asks again, softly, reassuringly.

“Yes.” the word comes out before he can even think of it.

She lifts her hand and finally touches the thick, scarred skin. Her fingers move slowly, tentatively, testing the waters, brushing against the calluses. He spares a second to look at her face and sees a tear streaking down her cheek. Her hand then moves away, leaving him exposed again.

“Are you comfortable up there?” she asks, sitting down on her berth again as she takes off her shoes, her voice quivering. Daniel immediately turns his head to look at the ceiling, to give her at least a bit of privacy.

“Definitely had worse,” he responds, screwing his eyes shut for a second. “but it's not bad.”

The rustling of fabric stops as he hears her move and flick the light switch, plunging the compartment into darkness. He hears her sit down and exhale before she speaks again, quietly.

“I may be a bit forward but...” she speaks before pausing, swallowing loudly. “...I don't want to be alone.”

_What?_

“What do you mean?” Daniel asks, sitting up, Peggy's silhouette barely visible in the darkness.

“Could you..” she speaks again, quietly, as Daniel hears her pad the mattress.

_Oh._

“Okay...” he replies, cautiously, as he moves off his berth onto Peggy's, nestling himself against the wall and pulling a blanket over himself. Suddenly, he feels the warmth of her body against his as she nestles her head against his shoulder, her arm thrown over his chest, her leg thrown over his “good side”.

“Peggy?” he croaks out, before his eyes flutter shut, his head sinking deeper into the pillow

“Thank you.” she whispers just before sleep overtakes him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr - http://thekruppstahlfactor.tumblr.com/


End file.
